


The Other Side of Love

by enigmaticblue



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-30
Updated: 2010-03-30
Packaged: 2017-10-08 12:52:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/75813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Growing Pains and A Many Splendored Thing. Buffy's having a hard time figuring out how she feels about Spike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other Side of Love

Buffy stared at the clothes hanging in her closet. Spike was coming over, and she had no idea what to wear. Nothing fit right, but there wasn’t enough money to buy new things.

“Buffy? Are you coming?” Dawn asked, sticking her head inside the room.

“I’ll be there in a minute,” she said absently.

Dawn stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “You’re not even dressed. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” Buffy assured her sister. Dawn had been hovering for the last week, ever since she’d awoken from her coma. The younger girl appeared to be afraid that there were side effects that hadn’t shown up yet, or that Buffy would suddenly drop dead.

Not that Buffy could blame Dawn; that’s essentially what had happened to their mother.

“Then what’s wrong? You should eat. Do you want Tara to bring something up?”

“I’m fine!” Buffy burst out, instantly regretting her harsh tone. “I’m sorry, Dawnie. It’s just—I don’t have anything to wear.”

Dawn stared at her. “You know, Spike saw you in a hospital gown for months. I don’t think he’s going to care what you wear.”

“Who said that this was about Spike?” Buffy demanded. “I’d just like to look normal for a change, more like what I used to.”

Dawn put her arms around Buffy in an attempt to comfort her. “You’ll just have to eat more ice cream to gain back the weight you lost. That’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, right. Until then, what am I going to wear?”

Dawn reached into the closet and pulled out a sun dress that Buffy hadn’t worn in a long time. “Try this on.”

“It’s too cold, Dawnie,” Buffy objected. “It’s November.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Try it on. I’ll be right back.”

Buffy pulled on the dress, seeing no other option. _She_ certainly didn’t know what to wear. Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to admit that Dawn’s selection was a good one. Because it was a loose dress, the fact that it hung on her slight frame didn’t make her look like a famine victim.

“Here,” Dawn said, handing her a black cardigan. “Put that on.”

Buffy frowned, holding it up. “Where did this come from? I don’t remember seeing it before.”

“That’s because you haven’t,” Dawn replied. “I got it this past summer. I kind of had to after I grew six inches.” She gave Buffy one last hug. “Don’t take too long. I think Spike’s already here.”

Buffy pulled on the sweater, and she had to admit that it helped disguise the weight loss. The dark green dress brought out her eyes, and kept the black fabric of the cardigan from washing her out. A little makeup, and she’d look almost like her old self.

Too bad she wasn’t her old self.

~~~~~

Spike leaned against the counter, watching as Tara finished stirring meat into the curry sauce. “Hope that’ll put some meat back on Buffy’s bones.”

Tara gave him a wry look. “You know, while you all are worried about Buffy putting weight back on, I’m going to have to worry about all this food going straight to my hips.”

He snorted. “Please, pet. You’re hardly any bigger than Buffy. All three of you could use the extra weight.”

Tara shook her head, but she didn’t try to argue. It wasn’t the first time they’d had that conversation. “I got asked out today,” she admitted in a low voice.

Spike’s ears perked up, and he gave her a sharp look. “What did you say?”

“I said no,” she admitted. “It’s too soon, Spike.”

He couldn’t disagree; it hadn’t been that long since Willow’s death, and Spike knew that grief had to run its course. The length of time that took was different for everyone, and he didn’t think he would have ever been over Buffy. “What did she say?”

“She told me to let her know if I changed my mind.” Tara sighed. “I really like her, but I just can’t think of her that way. After everything with Willow—”

“Take your time, Tara,” Spike advised gently, reaching out to brush her hair out of her face. “It’s different for everybody.” He let his hand rest on her shoulder in a gesture of commiseration. It was meant to be friendly, but a strangled sound from the doorway told him that someone wasn’t taking it that way.

He turned to see Buffy standing at the entrance to the kitchen, betrayal in her eyes. “Buffy, I—”

“I’ve gotta go,” she managed, then fled.

Spike heard the front door slam behind her, and he rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell. That woman will be the death of me.”

“What happened?” Dawn demanded as she came into the kitchen. “Buffy just ran out of here.”

“She misinterpreted a friendly gesture, that’s all,” Spike said sourly. He looked over at Tara. “She _does_ know that you’re gay, right?”

Tara shook her head. “I don’t think it has anything to do with what Buffy knows or doesn’t know, Spike. She’s scared right now.”

“Of what?” Dawn asked.

Tara smiled wistfully. “Of learning how to live again.”

~~~~~

Buffy didn’t even know what she was running from—or who. She knew that Spike wasn’t interested in Tara in _that_ way. She also knew that Tara liked girls, and that she’d acted like an idiot.

It was just that everything was different now. Willow was gone, and Xander had a job out of town that he loved. It had been clear from the first moment she’d seen him after waking up that Xander had changed. Soon afterwards, he had left Sunnydale, and he no longer wanted to come back.

The entire group had split, and then reformed, with new members and new rules that Buffy didn’t understand. She was still the Slayer, and she still fought demons, but it was now clear that the world would go on just fine without her.

At least the last time, her friends had brought her back because she was needed. This time, Buffy had no idea why she was alive. She should have died; according to Tara, she had, although the doctors had been able to revive her. Wasn’t the third time supposed to be the charm?

Instead, Willow had died, and Buffy had survived. That wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

She stopped in Spike’s cemetery and sat down on a large tombstone, and realizing belatedly that she didn’t have any weapons. “Smart, Buffy. Real smart.”

Buffy had to laugh at herself. Here she was, sitting on a tombstone in November, wearing nothing more than a flimsy dress and a cardigan, with no weapons. Maybe dying multiple times led to brain damage. With a sigh, she realized that there was only one option if she wasn’t going to head home.

She just hoped that Spike didn’t mind her using his crypt.

~~~~~

“And no one has gone after her?” Giles demanded.

Spike rolled his eyes. “You think going after Buffy when she’s in a mood like that is a good idea? She needs time to cool off.”

Giles fixed him with a glare. “I don’t remember asking you.”

Tara stepped between the two of them, warning them to be civil with a look. “Stop it. You asked the room at large, Giles, and you know it. And Spike, that’s not the only reason you didn’t want to go after her.”

Spike looked away, unable to meet her eyes. Tara was right on the money with that remark. Although Buffy had been friendly, she hadn’t been quite as warm towards him as in his dreams—or rather, _their_ dreams.

She’d mentioned him redecorating his crypt after the explosion, and there was no way she could have known about that otherwise. Buffy hadn’t been to his place since before she’d been shot, and he hadn’t said anything about it after she’d regained consciousness.

And that’s exactly what was bothering him. Buffy hadn’t mentioned their shared dreams, or shared connection since that first day. The only real change in their relationship was the fact that she was including him among her friends, but that could be as much Dawn or Tara’s doing as Buffy’s.

It was really starting to piss him off, particularly after she ran off as though she’d just discovered her lover _in flagrante_.

“You know Buffy,” Spike finally mumbled. “She does need time to cool down.”

“But she didn’t take a weapon, or a coat,” Dawn pointed out ruthlessly. “So you should probably go after her.”

Spike’s eyes narrowed, silently promising later retribution. He knew that the girl was doing everything in her power to throw the two of them together. Although he didn’t know how she’d found out, Dawn had told him that she knew about what she called “their mystical connection.” His Nibblet had a hard time leaving well enough alone once she’d gotten an idea into her head, and this time her idea revolved around him and Buffy living happily ever after.

“Fine,” Spike sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to get out of it. “I’ll send her back once I find her. Maybe if I’m not around, she won’t have as much trouble staying.”

“Spike…” Tara gave him a look, clearly telling him not to be so negative.

He gave her a half-hearted smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Spike wasn’t sure where to go first. Buffy’s scent was too faint to follow, and so he headed towards the nearest cemetery. It was a logical place to start, given that Buffy tended to seek out violence when she was upset or uncertain.

There was no sign of the Slayer at the first cemetery he came to, nor the second. The only other place that was close to her house was his own, although he thought it was strange that she would go to there.

Buffy hadn’t been to his crypt since accusing him of spying on her with hidden cameras.

As he approached, Spike got that tingling feeling that told him that the Slayer was near. He eyed the door of his crypt with apprehension, wondering if he dared enter. Buffy would be safe enough; he could give Tara a call to let her know where the Slayer was, then go get drunk.

He paused. That thought was probably more tempting than it ought to have been.

Squaring his shoulders, Spike entered quietly, not wanting to startle her. Buffy was nowhere to be seen on the top level, and so he shut the door behind him and headed down the ladder.

He noticed the lit candle; clearly, she still knew her way around. “They’re worried about you, you know.”

Buffy didn’t even turn to look at him. “I can take care of myself.”

“You’ve had quite an experience, pet,” Spike pointed out, approaching cautiously. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, much as she had during one of his dreams. “They’re worried about you.”

She didn’t respond, and Spike sat down next to her tentatively. The way their relationship had ended, and then had seemed to begin again—and then had stalled—well, he no longer knew what to think. “Buffy—what you saw—”

“I know.”

Spike fought his rising anger. “Then why the hell did you run out like that?”

Buffy refused to look at him. “You guys are really close.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when two people have to rely on each other.”

“You’re close to Dawn, too.”

“You gonna tell me not to come around again?”

“You don’t get it, Spike!” Buffy burst out. “Willow’s gone, and so is Xander. You’ve got your own little group of friends, and I’ve got—”

“Don’t!” he gritted out. “Don’t you dare say that you’ve got nothin’. Tara an’ Dawn deserve better than that. Tara lost just as much as you did, if not more. We _had_ to learn how to get on without you, an’ you’re goin’ to sit there and claim that you don’t have any friends?”

She flushed, whether in anger or shame he couldn’t tell. “You don’t understand,” she said dully.

“Then make me understand.”

“I don’t know how!” she cried, her eyes filling up with tears. “I don’t know where to start.”

Spike put a hand on her shoulder. As they sat together, their position was an unconscious imitation of that night on her porch. He’d been angry with her then, too, and her tears had undone him. This time, however, Buffy turned towards him, resting her forehead on his shoulder.

“I don’t know where I fit,” she finally mumbled.

He stroked her hair, grateful for the chance to hold her, however fleeting it might be. “Seems to me you fit fine right here.”

“Yeah.”

Spike held her close, relishing the opportunity to touch her—something he’d never thought he’d get the chance to do again. “You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” She didn’t move. “It was easier before.”

“What was easier?”

“Being with you.” She pulled away to meet his eyes. “While I was dreaming, I mean. It didn’t matter as much.”

Spike tried not to let the hurt show on his face. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t—that came out wrong,” she said, grimacing. “I meant that nothing mattered except for that moment, being with you.” Buffy sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Spike. I’m happy to be alive, but I don’t know what it means.”

“We could figure it out together,” he suggested, having no idea how she would respond.

Buffy smiled wistfully. “I’d like that.”

“You ready to go back?” he asked. “Tara probably has a plate set aside for you.”

She was quiet for a moment. “Okay, but only if you promise to stay tonight.”

“Yeah, okay,” Spike replied. “I’ll stay.”

Buffy’s eyes held his. “All night?”

“Whatever you want.”

~~~~~

Buffy didn’t think she was imagining the awkward silence when they walked back into her house. Giles was clearly not happy that Spike had returned with her, and Dawn and Tara were busy pretending that she hadn’t taken off for no reason.

In truth, Buffy didn’t just envy the closeness that the other two girls shared with Spike; it was also the ease of their friendships. They had so much baggage between the two of them that Buffy didn’t know how they would ever make it work. It had been a lot easier when she’d been in a coma and dreaming of him.

But Buffy knew that she needed him; she could no longer deny the truth after what she’d experienced. After sharing dreams with Spike, it wasn’t like she could go back to pretending that there wasn’t anything between them.

Sensing the tension, Spike pushed past Giles and the other girls, muttering something about a smoke under his breath.

Buffy met her Watcher’s eyes. “Giles, please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Giles looked away, unable to hold her gaze. “I should go. It’s getting late.”

Dawn didn’t bother hiding her eye roll as Giles left. “I don’t see why he doesn’t just get over it,” she said. “Spike was around all summer.”

“Give him a break, Dawn,” Buffy said. “It’s a lot for him to deal with.”

“It’s your love life,” Dawn muttered rebelliously. “I don’t see why he has to deal with anything.”

“Dawn—”

“I should go finish my homework,” the girl said, cutting off any other remonstrance Buffy might have made. “I’ve still got math to do.”

Dawn headed out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving Tara and Buffy alone.

Tara pulled the plate she’d fixed out of the microwave and set it down in front of Buffy, who eyed it warily. “This looks good.”

Tara smiled. “If you don’t like it, I can fix something else.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” Buffy replied.

Taking a bite of the curry, Buffy’s eyes opened wide in pleased surprise. “This is really good!”

“Dawn likes it,” Tara said modestly, turning to finish the clean-up.

Buffy hesitated. “I don’t think I’ve told you how much I appreciate everything you did for Dawn over the summer. I know it wasn’t easy.”

Tara paused in her movements. “I was happy to do it, Buffy,” she said sincerely. “It was good to be needed.”

Buffy thought she might understand. There had been times when only the knowledge that she had a duty had kept her going. “Still, you didn’t have to.”

“Spike did a lot, too,” Tara replied, turning to face her. “I don’t think I would have made it without him.”

Buffy looked down at her plate. “I know.”

“We’re just good friends.”

“I know.” She summoned the courage to look up. “I wish I could say the same thing.”

Tara seemed to understand what she meant. “It’s always more complicated when love is involved.”

Buffy opened her mouth to argue, to insist that she didn’t love Spike, and then she shut it with a snap. “It really is.”

The other woman smiled, draping the dish rag over the faucet to dry. “I’m going to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” Buffy finished her dinner and put her dishes in the sink.

She slipped out the back door and sat down next to Spike on the porch. “This is déjà vu all over again.”

He glanced over at her, then lit another cigarette. “S’pose it is.”

They sat in comfortable silence. Buffy allowed the peace to sink into her soul, and for a moment, she could allow herself to believe that it would be okay.

As though Spike was reading her mind, he said, “You’re goin’ to be okay, Buffy.”

She smiled, then reached for his hand. “I know.” Buffy glanced over, waiting until he met her eyes. “As long as you’re here.”

Spike looked at her. “I love you.” He said it sincerely, seriously, and Buffy could no more doubt his words than she could doubt that the sun came up in the east.

“I know you do.” She released his hand to touch his cheek. “I think I might love you, too.”

And maybe that was the best place to start.


End file.
